A Brush with Fame
by Stoned Rose
Summary: This was my submission for a 2003 fanfic challenge that went something like this: "Write an OC spending 10-15 minutes with a canon character. The twist? In those few minutes the canon character should reveal something to the OC that is not known to the general public." Just a bit of fun. Rated for a little bit of bad language.


I pushed my way down the crowded hallway, careful to keep my head down. I ignored the beings that passed all around me, and kept my eyes fixated on the floor ahead. A tall Sullustan knocked my shoulder in passing, and I had to stifle an annoyed curse. It had been one of those days. One those stinking, rotten, horrible days. The kind that Rik would use as an excuse to go to the blaster range, and that I usually used as an excuse to lock myself in the refresher with a warm bath and a book. Ugh.

_Late package…pffffft!_

I reached the turbo-lift and palmed the button impatiently, my foot tapping in annoyance as I waited for the doors to open. Maybe I'd lose my job. Get fired. Well, fine. I didn't need this stupid job anymore. This bike messenger thing was only supposed to be a temporary thing anyway. Soon I'd get my big break, and when I'm a huge holovid star, that Mon Calamari back there can kiss my bony ass. And one day, when he's begging me for an autograph for one of his spoiled brats, I'll just flip him off and tell him where to go.

I gave myself a satisfied smile. But just as quickly, it faded. Oh, but my boyfriend Rik was going to be pissed.

The doors slid open and I got on the lift. I didn't even turn around before I slapped the button for the lower floors. I needed to get out of this damn government building with its pretentious, stupid, government officials. They were enough to give me a splitting headache.

The doors were within inches of sealing shut when I heard a hurried voice call, "Wait, hold the lift! Hold the lift!"

I clenched my teeth in annoyance, and considered ignoring the plea, but almost without thinking, my hand shot out and pushed for the lift to open again. The doors parted to reveal a relieved, out of breath, young woman. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she was adorned in the typical all white senatorial gown.

I tried not to stare.

Her cheeks were flushed, and her stomach was, well, HUGE, but there was no mistaking her identity. She gave me a grateful smile, and boarded the lift. "Thanks," she said, the doors sealing behind her. "I've been trying to get out of here for hours, and if I didn't catch this lift there's no telling who would've come out and snagged me for 'just one more thing." She blew out an exasperated sigh. "I tried running, but…well, a Hutt could outpace me at the moment." She ran a hand over her swollen belly, as if to emphasize her point.

I tried a polite smile, but it felt forced and stretched my features. "Um, no problem." _Holy shit. Good gods!_ "Uh, what level?" I asked, my hand hovering over the buttons. I admired the steadiness of my own voice.

"First one, thanks."

I nodded and pushed the appropriate button.

Wow. I had messaged packages here probably a hundred times. Maybe more. And I knew she worked here. Everyone did. But in all that time, I had never, ever, seen her. I had begun to believe that the woman never left her office. But yet here she was. Sharing *my* turbo-lift. _Princess Leia Organa Solo_. My head was spinning. It felt surreal. Like a dream. Any minute now the doors would open to reveal the dusty plains of Tatooine, and Rik would fly by on the strength of his own two arms. Yes, a dream, it had to be. And Rik! Man, he was going to *flip* when he heard this.

I dared another glance at her. She was looking above the doors with only a vague interest, her thoughts already somewhere else. _So weird_. I wondered what was going through her mind. What did important people like her think about, anyway? Senate meetings? Royal receptions? That tall, gorgeous, general she had waiting at home?

I straightened. _Damn, she goes home to Han Solo_. I sucked in my cheeks. _Oh, man, oh, man…._

I blushed as my thoughts turned to her husband, and looked away guiltily. Here she was, innocently riding a turbolift-–a virtuous vessel of burgeoning life, no less—while not four feet away, a complete stranger was mentally defiling her husband. _Stop it!_ I scolded myself. But that did little to stem the flow of lewd imagery that now flooded my brain. I felt evil and perverted.

I swallowed and remembered with a flash of panic that her brother was a Jedi. Oh, gods, maybe she had that gift, too. My cheeks began to blaze furiously as I imagined the princess reaching out with her Force ability and reading my thoughts. I saw her horrified reaction as she turned over each thought one by one, and studied every illicit detail. I wanted to die.

_Stop it! Stop it right now!_

I desperately tried to fill my mind with more sobering thoughts. The starving refugees of Ithor. That horrific speed crash I'd passed on the way here. Alderaan exploding. But that seemed only to cause the images in my head to become more and more lurid. It was as if my brain were purposely betraying me, digging up the most perverse thoughts possible, to see how much I could tolerate before dropping dead of embarrassment.

I snuck another look at the princess. I half-expected to see her glaring back at me, a sharp viro-blade suddenly aimed in my direction. But if the princess was aware of her husband starring in the porno-vid spinning through my head, she didn't show it. She continued to look straight ahead, her expression oblivious and blank.

My eyes strayed to her pregnant belly again, and I felt a fresh stab of guilt. I wondered what the princess would think of the lists that Rik and I had drawn up. I blushed now, remembering how we had both jokingly jotted down the names of celebrities each of us were allowed to sleep with without punishment form the other person. Would she be angered or flattered that her husband had scored third on mine? I wondered if her and Han Solo kept a similar list. Or maybe me and Rik were just abnormal and unhealthy.

The lift lurched to a sudden stop, and I snapped out of my reverie. I looked up expectantly, waiting for the doors to slide open. But nothing happened.

I heard a mumbled "oh, no" from beside me, and I shot the princess a questioning look. "This happens sometimes, " she explained with a resigned sigh. "It's quite an annoyance, but they should get it running again soon enough."

"We're stuck? How long does this usually take?"

The princess shrugged. "Usually? Only a few minutes…" She paused. "Although," she added suddenly, "one time a colleague of mine was stuck in here for almost two hours."

_Two hours?!_ An image of my double-parked speederbike floated to mind, and I wanted to kick the door with renewed frustration. "Shit," I swore angrily, "did the Empire leave anything in this fucking city working properly?"

The princess cleared her throat. "Not last I checked," she replied simply.

I turned to her slowly, my cheeks now burning with embarrassment. "Uh…my apologies, Your Highness…I, uh, didn't mean to offend…."

The princess gave me a wry smile. "I'm married to a Corellian," she said dryly, "there's very little you could say that would offend me at this point."

"Just the same…I shouldn't have…." I gestured helplessly at the lift. "It's just that it's been a really horrible day, and now I'll probably get a ticket and this…." I instantly blushed. Who was I to complain about a crummy day? Especially to _Princess Leia Organa?_ A former war veteran. Two-time prisoner of the Empire. I was instantly humbled. "Um, I mean…never mind."

The princess waved away my flustered apologies. "Don't worry about it. Besides, I'm sure we won't be stuck here long."

"I hope not." _Two hours_…. Something suddenly occurred to me, and I gave her a careful look. "Um, are you okay? You wanna sit down or something?"

She must've seen me eyeing her stomach, because she let out an amused laugh. "Don't worry about me," she said, still smiling. "I'm not going to fall down and suddenly go into labor."

I shook my head to protest, but I couldn't lie; the thought had crossed my mind. I'd seen enough serials to know one simple rule: stick a very pregnant woman in a stuck elevator and she will inevitably give birth. It happened on the HoloNet all the time.

Suddenly, my brain was bombarded with several possible 'giving birth' scenarios. One had me heroically kneeled before the princess, a slimy, squirming newborn in my hands. The princess, eyes wet with grateful tears, would immediately welcome me into her family, where I'd be invited over for parties and intimate Life Day dinners. Maybe I'd even leave Rik, and marry her brother Luke. But the other possibility had the wet newborn slipping from my hands and skidding along the dirty turbolift floor. It would be irreparably damaged as a result. An enraged and vengeful princess would then make it her sole mission in life to crush my entire existence into a fine, powdery mess. She'd strip me of my identity and send me to the spice mines of Kessel, where I'd spend my last days feeling my way through virtual darkness. Rik would then instantly forget about me, and go off and marry some underwear model.

"Really," the princess continued, having read my skeptical expression. "I'm not as far along as I look. I'm carrying twins."

I tried to contain my relieved sigh. _Oh, yeah. That's right._ I had actually read about her pregnancy in a tabloid. It had been placed in a little blurb next to a giant photo of Mon Mothma, devoid of makeup, stuffing her face with a Corellian beef patty. But I couldn't let the princess know that, so I just acted surprised. "Oh? Oh, really? Congratulations."

"Thank you."

I whistled. "I guess you and General Solo have been busy, huh?" I smiled knowingly.

She gave me a weird look.

"Er, I mean…." _Shut up, just shut up already! _"I mean you *will*be busy. Very soon. With twins."

There was an awkward silence. "Yes, I'm sure we will…." she finally replied.

I pushed on, to cover the sudden discomfort. "So, have you picked out any names yet? I bet that must be fun."

She considered my question a moment. "Well, no. We're discussing it, but we haven't been able to settle on any yet."

"Cos my name is Jayme." I noticed her stricken expression and hastily added, "not that you should name your child after *me*. I mean, of course not." _Oh, gods, shoot me now_. "But I mean, well, my mother got the name from her favorite actress at the time, if that helps. And you know, it's funny, because now I want to be a holovid star myself, but if I do, they say I might have to change my name first." I knew I was babbling, but it was like my mouth had suddenly grown a mind of its own. "Which, you know, if I do have to change it, well, I guess that puts me in the same ship as you."

There was no response. Maybe she was stunned.

"I mean, in the sense of having to pick names. Like you for your babies…." I allowed my voice to trail off. This was starting to become painful.

The princess just nodded her head slowly. "Right," she said. She turned back toward the door, a look of desperation suddenly taking over her features. I could practically hear her mentally *screaming* for the turbolift to be fixed.

"Um…." The small confines of the lift seemed to be taking their toll on my psyche. I blinked, and the walls suddenly felt like they were caving in on me. Maybe I was claustrophobic. A light film of sweat had formed over my upper lip. "Your husband is number three on my list," I blurted.

The princess turned to me, her expression blank. "Excuse me?"

_Did I really just say that?!_

I pressed on, my voice nervous and shaky. "See, my boyfriend and I? We made these lists, you know, as a joke. For fun." I tried using what I hoped was my sanest tone. "Of, you know, the people we're each allowed to sleep with if given the opportunity. Just for fun. And well…um…." My cheeks reddened and I looked away. "Your husband was on mine."

_Have you completely lost your mind?!_

I didn't travel in high circles, and I was admittedly still rather naïve, but I was pretty sure that telling a *galaxy icon* that you wanted to sleep with her husband was *not* a good idea.

There was a moment of unsettling silence. Maybe she was desperately racking her brain for an effective way to kill me and stash the body. One could only hope.

I finally dared to look at her again, and was surprised to see an almost impassive expression on her face. There was also a trace of something else…amusement? The princess met my eye and the corner of her mouth turned up, forming a vague smile. "Why only number three?" She finally asked.

I was stunned. I stood there blinking stupidly for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Finally I just sputtered, "You ever watch smashball? Coruscant Comets?"

She just shook her head, her smile widening.

"Yeah, well their goalie and left wing—" I shrugged sheepishly, "they're pretty 'wow', too."

The princess actually laughed. I relaxed.

Suddenly, the turbolift jerked to life, and we could once again feel the familiar pull at our feet as we descended toward the lower levels. The princess turned away. The drone of the lift had broken the spell of our brief conversation.

We traveled down the last few levels in complete silence. When we finally reached the bottom, I wondered if she was even going to bother acknowledging me one last time.

Then, in the brief seconds before the doors slid open, she turned to me again. "Tofer Andros," she said.

My brow rose in confusion. "What? The actor?"

She gave me a conspiratorial smile, as if daring me to make the connection.

The lift doors opened, bringing in all the noise of the outside hallway. The princess turned away again and stepped off the lift. Without looking back, she added, "Yeah, he's number three on mine."

I think I was still gaping in disbelief when the turbolift doors slid shut again.


End file.
